The author of this, Andrew Aainslie, shared this on different forums after his ordeal. He is an accomplished cave diver and explorer.
Part 1 of article
How Much Gas is Enough?
Running on “Empty” I just had a rude awakening after a dive recently that has made me re‐evaluate my attitude to gas management, and my ability to handle emergencies rationally. I thought that I’d write the case up as a short article, in the hopes that it will make others reconsider what constitutes adequate reserves, and to recognize the sort of mental spiral that almost killed me recently.
On my last trip to Florida, I decided to push an infrequently dived section of a cave section with a new sidemount rebreather setup that I had been playing with. While this is not the time to talk about the errors that I made in that configuration, it turned out to not be the right configuration for the task. At approximately 4800 feet of penetration, I tore a hose on the rebreather, instantly wetting the scrubber and flooding the rebreather to a level that made it fairly unusable. At that point, I had what I felt would be an outrageous amount of gas – I had a scooter, twin 85’s overfilled to 3600 psi in a sidemount configuration, a stage at 4000 feet, and a stage at 2000 feet. Under ideal conditions, a single one of those 85’s should have gotten me out.
My head, however, had different ideas. It took me approximately 10 minutes to get back through the restriction that I had just spent 10 minutes getting through in the other direction – and I really mean 10 minutes, I verified it afterwards on my computer log. During that 10 minutes I ultimately ended up completely removing one of the 85’s and pushing it ahead of me, then half removing the other 85 and pushing it ahead of me as I scrabbled behind it. The puffing and panting, together with my mounting concern, had my SAC up to an outrageously high level. By the time I got back to 4000 feet, I had emptied one of my 85’s – that’s over 100 cubic feet of gas in under 800 feet of cave, swimming with heavy flow assisting me. I was shocked when I saw the gauge so low – I hadn’t even considered swapping tanks yet, and I’d emptied one!
I went onto the second 85, attached my stage, and started heading out. I lost concentration at one point, and drifted off the “main” line (which is a white line) onto a side line, without noticing that I’d made a jump. This line led me almost immediately into a really low section of cave. I, together with my rebreather, 2x85’s and an 80, almost immediately got funneled into a mud‐bottomed restriction that I couldn’t get past. My rapidly worsening mental state led me to try to force my way past the restriction, instead of slowing down and trying to work out what was going on. In the process, I created an outrageous mess, with a silt‐out so bad that I now lost this new line. I finally stopped moving, and waited for what felt like an eternity (but was probably about 5 minutes) for the silt‐out to subside, while I shone my light around, until to my huge relief, I found the line again. By now, my mental state was extremely poor, I was no longer thinking logically, and my SAC rate was beyond horrible.
Back on the line, I came to a restriction around 3500 feet that requires one to turn sideways when in a sidemount configuration. I turned on my side and squeezed halfway through when I felt my reg start to breathe hard. My immediate reaction (which turned out to be wrong) was that I had just finished my second 85 – that’s over 200 cubic feet of gas in just 1300 feet with flow! I stopped pulling through, moved backwards until clear of the restriction, and deployed and went onto my stage, now seriously concerned about my ability to get to my second stage at 2000 feet – i.e. another 1700 feet ahead of me – with no backup source of gas. I thought that I was now running on a single tank of gas.
At this point the cave starts opening up. I started focusing on breathing slower, and relaxing, as I rode my scooter home. At 2000 feet, I picked up my second stage with huge relief and clipped it off. Remember that at this stage, I thought that my primary 85’s were both empty. Given that, I should have deployed the second stage in order to have an alternate source of gas at the ready. I didn’t. I can only put this down to my deteriorating state of mind.
The next 1400 feet were pretty uneventful. But just 400 feet from fresh air, the inevitable happened – my stage started breathing hard. No problem, I thought, just deploy the other stage… but I just couldn’t get to it fast enough. I was fumbling unsuccessfully with the clip, realizing with mounting disbelief that I just wouldn’t be able to do it fast enough. I was about to drown less than 400 feet from the exit, with an untouched stage on me! Rapidly running out of options, I did the only thing that I could think of – I went back onto the flooded loop, hoping to get enough breaths out of it to finish deploying the stage. It was with incredible relief that I found that I could breathe through the gurgling loop, and that the now soaking wet scrubber wasn’t yet putting out nasty enough fumes to be unbreathable. I really do believe that if it had been unbreathable, I would not have been here today to tell this story – even though I had huge amounts of unused gas on me. However, I got lucky, and within a minute I deployed the stage, and was once more breathing from a good source.